


Constant Vigilance or Face the Consequences

by Meilan_Firaga



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: On an Order raid Nymphadora Tonks is eager to be the first through the door. So eager that she doesn't catch the signs of a curse until after the raid is over when it's already far too late. The curse needs a focus, and unfortunately it quickly finds it in one of the other Order members on the raid.
Relationships: Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Little Black Dress Flash 2020





	Constant Vigilance or Face the Consequences

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FelixPhial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelixPhial/gifts).



She knew she was screwed the moment she took her first step outside of the Death Eater hideout they’d raided. The cold night air rushed over her, the breeze ruffling the edges of her robes, and instead of shivering from the chill she was overwhelmed with a flood of heat throughout her body. Sweat beaded on her forehead and gathered at the small of her back. Her heart was pounding. Her every nerve was alight. She knew this curse. She was a fool not to have recognized the signs before she charged in through the front door, so eager to be the first in on the raid. She needed to get away and fast. If the curse managed to catch an object— rather, person—for her to focus on… 

“Tonks!”

Even as her mind vehemently protested she found herself turning, too well-trained to ignore a supervisor’s call. With a mixture of resignation and mild horror she let her gaze settle on Mad-Eye’s face. It was almost instantly clear that he recognized the magic around her as it identified him as her focus and coalesced from a vague fog of desire into an overwhelming want that only he was going to be able to satisfy. Had the scarred, grizzled old Auror always been so beguiling? Moody swore a vicious streak when she crossed the grass in three short strides and practically melted against his side. 

“Kingsley!” he barked, batting her hands away from his shirt collar while trying not to lose his grip on the staff keeping him balanced and upright. Undeterred, she dropped a hand to his belt instead. “For fuck’s sake, girl, get enough of a hold on yourself to muster some patience.”

Tonks reached for her wand, intent on vanishing both of their clothes, but he snatched it from her grip with a speed she’d never known he possessed. 

“SHACKLEBOLT! GET OVER HERE NOW!”

“I’m right here, Alastor. You don’t have to— oh, dear.” Having turned the corner from where he’d been checking the side of the house for any stragglers, Kingsley froze at the sight of them. “Is that what I think it is.”

“Yes,” Moody growled. He dragged Tonk’s hand from where it had disappeared between the buttons of his shirt. Fed up, he flicked her own wand out and quickly bound her wrists. “I’ll be needing one of the emergency safehouse portkeys.” 

Kingsley nodded. “Of course. I believe I have one for a flat in south Wales that should do the trick.” He fished about in his robes for a moment before finally producing a crushed can of soda-pop. He held it out to the other man, a dubious expression on his face. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“You’d rather I take the other option of letting her die?” He wrestled Tonks into the crook of the arm he was using to grip his staff, letting her plaster herself to his torso as best she could with her hands immobilized. With her finally settled, he reached out to take the crushed can from Kingsley. “We don’t have Snape’s bloody anti-curse potions to rely on anymore. We have to handle things like this the old fashioned way.”

“Perhaps Weasley could figure out a solution?”

“Aye, might be that he could,” Moody admitted as he activated the portkey. It briefly glowed gold and then began to tick, counting down the seconds until it would carry them off. He pressed it between the palm of his hand and the side of Tonk’s neck, making sure it had contact with both of their skin. “We should get him looking into it in case this happens again, but there’s no guarantee he could do it in time to save her. We can’t afford to lose her.” He sighed as she nuzzled against his shoulder, whimpering with want. The portkey ticked faster, the countdown almost finished. “Let’s just hope she can look me in the eye when it’s over.”

There was a tug behind his navel, and Moody and Tonks disappeared.


End file.
